


Home

by Aragem



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Cults, Culture Shock, Dorks in Love, F/M, Intimacy, Peace, Romance, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24254515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aragem/pseuds/Aragem
Summary: Hordak struggles to reign in his clone brothers and fights with an in-law during peacetime on Etheria.For updates and more, follow me on Tumblr: rebelcourtesan
Relationships: Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra)
Comments: 150
Kudos: 508





	1. The Enclave

"Do you like it?" 

She was looking at him with such open eagerness that he was taken aback. The item had been thrust into his hands so quickly, he had almost dropped it. It had tangled around his fingers, and after several tries, he managed to unravel the chain and let it dangle between his hands. The purple crystal shone brightly at him, slotted into a pendant on a thin necklace chain. His image reflected in it, eyes now pinkish and slowly reclaiming the bright crimson they had one been. 

"When did you . . .?" He began, but Entrapta was already speeding off into an explanation.

"I thought about putting it into another armor for you, but there's no need! No war! No armor! So I thought about a ring, but I thought it would keep your finger from bending when holding a tool. Then Bow said a necklace would be pretty, so here you are!"

"It's very . . . sound, Entrapta," he said, regarding the necklace as if it were an unusual object. It was for a clone. 

They were never given any adornments save for their clothing. Jewelry was wasteful products of hedonism and vanity. Only lesser beings partake in trivials. No, that was the old way of thinking. This was different. This was a gift, a show of love he did not deserve but will accept if only to see her smile. "Thank you."

"Put it on!"

It took several tries, and he enlisted her help to secure it at the nape of his neck. The crystal lay against his breast, inches where it had once been when he first received it in another life. She drew close to him, her hands on his shoulders and her hair almost swaddling him. 

"Hordak, I'm glad you're back." 

"Me too, Entrapta. Me too." 

Actually, he wasn't back in the Fright Zone or Peaceful Fields as it's now called by the Scorpion people who reclaimed it as their home. He lived with Entrapta in her castle in Dryl for almost a month - since Horde Prime was vanquished. 

Most of their days were spent in the labs, dismantling each of the weaponry Horde Prime had brought to Etheria and repurposing them for beneficial purposes. A mile outside of the castle, a farmer made use of white robots to till his field for a new crop, and a merchant used half a dozen to defend his wagon from raiders in the Crimson Waste, which was currently experiencing a boom in trade. Not to mention they were designing new ships for Etherians to visit the rest of the galaxy. If there was one positive thing Horde Prime had brought to this planet, it had been the untold amount of information on technology and galactic travel. 

Entrapta had worked so long into the nights despite his insistence she rested. He had to outright carry her toward their room while her hair took along a component to work with on the way. The nights she had allowed him to bring her to her . . .their room . . . had been . . .exploratory.

His hands linked with hers. It was still early morning. The servants wouldn't come for another hour and knew to ring the bell before coming in. There was time yet for more exploration . . .

A knocking at the door set his teeth on edge. Who would dare . . .?

"Brother? Brother! They are doing it again!"

"Oh, it's Wrong Hor . . . I mean Zed," Entrapta corrected herself, disentangling her hair from him. 

Hordak sighed, rubbing a thumb and finger above his eyes. "This is the fifth time this week . . ."

"They can't help it," Entrapta said, perching on the bed next to him. "It takes time to learn something new."

He took pleasure in her presence, wishing they could have that hour now, but knew there were many nights to come. "Go ahead to the labs. I'll be along once I deal with this."

The kiss on his cheek was balm to his nerves. "I'll see you later."

With help from her hair, she was dressed within minutes. Upon opening the door, Zed came in a whirl of fear and anxiety. He winked a greeting at Entrapta, who gave him a quick squeeze with her hair as she dashed out the door. 

Zed, once known as Wrong Hordak, was a myriad of colors. Once he learned he could wear and adorn himself with colors other than white and gray, he was almost struck down with indecision by so many colors until he decided to choose them all . . .save for green or white. His mop of hair was a strangled rainbow, and his eyes were lined by silver glitter. He wore a tunic that gradient from a light shade of blue to darker blue at the bottom. 

"They are praying again, brother!" Zed stammered, fidgeting with both hands. "I would go, but they do not listen to me."

"I will make them listen to me," Hordak grumbled, feeling cold without Entrapta's presence by his side. He grabbed a cloak on the way out, and Zed followed close behind him. 

"Brother, you shouldn't shout at them."

"How else will they listen?" Hordak growled, fitting the cloak around his shoulders. 

They reached the courtyard, and Hordak flinched at the sudden cold air blowing against him. Etheria was reaching it's cold season sooner than he would have liked. He would see into having long boots made to protect his legs from the cold. 

A transport was waiting in the courtyard with a grinning driver boy waiting for riders. 

"You do not need to come with me," Hordak said over his shoulder. "I can handle this alone."

"No, you shouldn't go alone," Zed replied, following in close behind him.

Being eager to finish this unwanted chore, Hordak didn't argue. He had forbidden Zed from ever going to the Enclave by himself and for a good reason. If Zed went alone, there was no guarantee that he would return unharmed, or if at all.

With Horde Prime gone, so too was his control over the clones. For the first time in their existence, there was no collective consciousness, no voice in their heads giving them orders or direction. Many had panicked and broken down in terror. Others were numb, unable to process the unlimited freedom they had never known. Over the weeks, and with much patience from the Princesses, the clones began to learn to live for themselves. Most have chosen to make their homes on Etheria, discovering communities willing to welcome them. Some left with Adora, She-Ra, and her companions to spread the word of freedom among the clones on other planets. 

However, a small group refused freedom and individuality and longed for Horde Prime's return. 

And they would be waiting for eternity, Hordak thought to himself as the transport lifted from the courtyard and into the wind that promised snow in the coming weeks. A bitter part of him thought it would serve them right if they all froze to death this winter. Etherian winters could be bitterly cold and perhaps more so with the magic released. Yet, he knew that Zed wouldn't let that happen. Or he would nag and pester Hordak until he sent supplies and winter wear to their Enclave. Zed was responsible for ensuring the robots took plenty of food and water for them. 

At the edge of Dryl was a series of cliffs with a cave formation where one of Horde Prime's towers had landed. During the last battle, it had been toppled by Dryl's inhabitants, and the Enclave made its home under its shadow. They could see the metal frame, now overgrown by foliage, lying like the skeleton of a deceased giant. 

As the transport lowered, Hordak could see the ring of metal hulls fashioned into huts. Hordak knew they shared four to a shelter, sleeping side by side. Not one of them owned their individual dwellings or possessions. Everything was shared in a communal storehouse where food and water were equally rationed out. 

Now all twelve of them were outside wearing cowls, forming a ring and praying, calling for Horde Prime's voice to come back to them. And the one standing in the center of the circle, his cowl back and head bare, set Hordak's teeth on edge. White hair glistened in the sunlight, save for the slash of black cloth that covered his right eye lost it in the final battle. Hordak recalled that a piece of shrapnel had been removed from where the eye had been. His face was upturned, hands upward, leading the chanting prayer. Since Enclave clones refused names, they called him the Speaker, but Hordak called him the Enclave Instigator. 

The transport landed just outside of the ring of huts. From inside the carrier, they could clearly hear the chants, and it sent a shiver down Hordak's spine.

Prime is eternal! Prime sees all! Prime is us, and we are Prime!

Over and over, loud enough to echo from the cliff and carry the sound to a neighboring village. The Etherians have forgiven, but they have not forgotten. Salineas refused entry to any clone; the people's memories were still fresh from when the Horde Army, led by him, had nearly destroyed it. 

The transport hadn't fully settled on the ground when he flung open the door and bailed out. The wind pulled at his cloak, tossed the sarong of his tunic as he stalked towards the gathering, shoulders bent, and eyes narrowed as if he were going into battle. In a way, perhaps he was. It was a fight he had been struggling with since the end of the war. 

The Speaker lowered his hands when he saw them, single eye narrowing and lips tightened in a thin line. The followers' chants slowly stopped as all green eyes turned in their direction. Zed caught up to him but stayed behind with a nervous step. He was never one to like confrontation, but it spoke volumes for his character to support Hordak now.

"Stop this!" Hordak snarled, stopping at the edge of the parting circle. They were withdrawing, gathering behind their self-elected Speaker, green eyes staring blankly at him, taking in his every action, but empty of any thought. It was unnerving as he had once been as them. "Prime is dead. Gone. Your chants and prayers do not reach him."

And that got a bit more of a reaction. Several eyes glinted furiously as his words sparked outrage. Though angry, they stayed silent as only the Speaker could use his voice. 

"How dare you come here, traitors," the Speaker sneered, single eye switching between the two of them. "And speak such profound blasphemy!"

"It is the truth!" Hordak shouted. "He's dead; his very being erased by She-ra."

A rattling hiss rose from the group at the forbidden name, and more eyes turned vicious. And it only inflamed the Speaker's vehemence. "You dare! You dare speak that name!" Spittle flew from his lips from the ferocity of his outcry. 

"Hordak," Zed whispered, and there was a light touch at his elbow. 

From the corner of his eye, his younger brother was eyeing the crowd cautiously. It had never come to violence before, but it was only a matter of time until it did. The majority still functioned as if they were part of the hivemind, not acting unless ordered to do so, but the Speaker could spur them into action with a word. And his triggering them wouldn't de-escalate the situation, nor did it help them realize they were severely outnumbered. Coming here alone after today may no longer NB be safe. 

Stilling the burning emotions, Hordak chose his words carefully, which was still new for him. Back when he led the Horde army, he had been at liberty to speak his mind to underlings, but those days were long gone. Now he must learn to talk with others as equals. 

"Your prayers upset the Etherians," Hordak said cautiously. "If you must pray, do so quietly and in your hovels."

"You have no say here, traitor," the Speaker replied. "We only heed Horde Prime's voice."

Arching a brow, Hordak inquired, "And does he speak to you now? Have you heard his voice since the end of the war?" To his satisfaction, the angry eyes went wide, confused, and fearful. He pressed on, in some dire hope that his reasoning would stick in their minds. "Do any of you recall a time when we couldn't hear his voice? If he still lives, then why is he silent now?"

"It's a test!" The Speaker cut him off. "A means to test our loyalty to him!"

"Why would he want to test loyalty when he can see it in your minds?" Hordak countered.

A few clones looked at each other, and another inclined his head at a confusing angle.

"It is not our place to question Him!" The Speaker rasped. 

"Yet the questions still come," Hordak said, speaking only to the clones behind him. "For the first time in your lives, you have questions, but you will get no answers here. Not with him," he pointed at the Speaker in an accusatory jab, "filling your heads with misconceptions and lies. You do not have to listen to him, nor do you have to listen to me! Listen to the voice inside your heads, the voice that is yours! It's the same voice that tells you that you're hungry, you're cold, you're tired, and you're lonely. It's your voice! What is it telling you now? Don't be afraid to listen to it!" 

As he spoke, he approached them, looking into their faces, like his own, but confused and some even frightened. Even a few that were offended and defiant. 

They persisted in wearing the Horde's white robes, but they were soiled and tattered with a myriad of inadequate patchwork. Zed had offered them new clothing in the past, but the clones wouldn't touch them and remained in their threadbare and soiled robes, which would not keep them warm during winter. And their hovels would not block out the cold winds. Did they even know how to build a fire?

"The voice in my head is telling me," a tentative voice rose and fell, no more substantial than a leaf on the wind. "That I am scared."

The crowd parted, all eyes turning from Hordak to the clone in the center. He was fidgeting, the edge of his cowl hood ripped and never mended. He was thin compared to the other clones, and for the first time, Hordak began to suspect that he was wrong about the clones equally dividing supplies. There might be a pecking order or hierarchy in place he wasn't aware of. 

He stepped closer to the clone and offered his hand. The clone stepped back in fright, ears cast downward, and trembled.

"It's understandable to be afraid. Everything is new and something you've never experienced before. I, too, experienced such fears when I was first cut off from the hivemind. Back then, I was alone, but today you are not alone. You do not have to live in the wilderness, waiting for a voice that will never come. The invitation to come to the castle is and will remain open to those who wish to come. We can help you find a place in Etheria and create an identity for yourself."

They were listening to him, actually listening with some consideration. Was he reaching them at last? 

"Do not listen to him!" The Speaker howled, hands curled into fists as if he would start throwing blows. "He has been corrupted by this world and its princesses! He even lies with one of them! Partaking in the flesh is forbidden."

How in the Universe did the rumors reach this far? 

"Yes, partaking in the flesh is forbidden," Hordak said with cold steel in his voice. "So is imbibing and eating food and drink not of amniotic fluid. These 'forbidden things' Horde Prime has done countless times before us! He has eaten rich food we cooked with our own hands. Drank wines we poured into his crystal glasses. And . . .” He paused as revulsion filled him. He had forbidden Zed from ever mentioning to the Etherians, lest word of it reached Queen Glimmer's ears, was of Horde Prime's harems. "He had partaken of the flesh many, many times. How can we follow a leader that would break his doctrine when it suited him?"

"Because we could never question him," Zed answered from where he had been standing silent the whole time. 

A wintery wind chilled him and made the dull ache in his limbs sharpen. It was time to return. They had done what they had come to do. Moving through the crowd, he motioned for Zed to head for the transport. "We will leave you alone. You are free to come with us. There is room in the transport for a few more and we can send another for more. Or if you change your mind later, you know the direction to the castle. You are welcomed there."

None of the clones followed them as he would have hoped. Maybe later or another day, some of them will appear at the castle gates. He felt the furious glare from the Speaker's single eye boring a hole in his back, and it brought him comfort to know that if the clones of the Enclave were miserable, so would the Speaker suffer. 

"Why won't they come with us?" Zed whispered as they neared the transport. "I don't understand why they wish to remain here."

"They believe that if Horde Prime returns, they would be rewarded for their suffering on his behalf," Hordak muttered as he climbed into the transport and enjoyed the warmth inside. 

"Horde Prime isn't coming back . . .is he?" Zed looked at him like a child wanting reassurance that the monsters won't come in the night.

"No, Horde Prime is dead. She-ra burned him away from my mind," Hordak assured him. "Think no more of him and let us return home."

***

The air in the labs carried the strong smell of machine oil and the echoes of components cranking together. The pleasant bubble of Entrapta's monologuing was home to him. It took him back to the days when they had built the portal; she had confused and entranced him with her passion for science and devotion to him. And there was still the ache of believing he had lost her forever. 

She spoke so rapidly into a recorder that she failed to notice him until he touched her hair. The recorder clicked off when she paused to explain how the circuits regulated power throughout the systems unit. Turning to Hordak, she drew him close with a lengthy pigtail. 

It was safe touches with her hair first before they escalated to casual caresses. She set the recorder on the workbench and reached for his hand. "You're still wearing it."

It took him a moment to recall her gift earlier. The pendant lay against his breast, and she tenderly lifted it into her glove. 

"I have no intention of ever taking it off," He replied, curling his hand around hers, enclosing the pendant in her palm. "Now, you hold my heart."

"It's not really your heart," Entrapta began, then faltered. "Oh! You're being romantic! I can be romantic too . . .Ummm . . .” A tendril of hair tapped her lips in thought. "Give me a second to think of something . . ."

"Whisper it into my ear when you do," Hordak drew her close into a quick hug and released her. "So, where did we leave off from yesterday?"

Entrapta zeroed in on the task at hand, taking him around to a robot's processor that kept looping errors. It wasn't until later that night when she did whisper something romantic into his ear, and it sent warm tingles throughout his body. The pendant gleamed in the low light of their bedroom, warm on his skin, next to his heart where Entrapta will always be.


	2. Uncle Coda

Most nights, he slept well, but occasionally there were times when the dreams came. A sea of green water before him, the chants of suffering and purity screaming his ears, and fire in his veins. Thankfully, the dreams were brief but took its toll on his rest.

Eyes snapped open, crimson, and wide with terror. Gasping for air, he sat up as gentle tendrils coiled around him. The slight pressure around his torso reassured him Entrapta was close.

"Another bad dream?"

"No," he snapped before he could stop himself. It was a gut reaction to his days of leading the Horde Army when he had to hide his weaknesses and pain.

The tendrils loosen their hold and caress him, stroking him to relax against the mountain of cushions Entrapta used as a bed. It was a far cry different from the simple bed from his bedchambers in the Fright Zone and the basic cot on Horde Prime's ship. It had taken getting used to, but he managed to find it relatively comfortable and even beneficial to his condition. He was able to get better rest and wake up refreshed and ready for the morning.

"It's alright to have bad dreams," Entrapta's voice was close to his ear. "Everybody has them. I once had a bad dream that Emily malfunctioned and chased the staff out of the castle, and we had to learn how to cook."

What was surprising was that between the two of them, inventors and tech specialists, they could not so much as boil water without burning it. He would overestimate the amounts of ingredients, while Entrapta would add ingredients not in the recipe to see how it would turn out. They filled up the kitchen with smoke and had to be aired out for days while they had dry sandwiches for the duration.

"That's bad, but it's not . . ." How can he describe being under the thrall of Horde Prime? How can he make her understand the fresh horrors he can recall, that he had blocked out until he broke free?

Entrapta reached for his hand and fumbled for it in the dark. With his superior night vision, he pushed his hand onto hers and held it tight. Her smile brought him warmth that drove away from the fear of the nightmare. "Do you want to go back to sleep? We can get an early start in the labs if you want?"

He settled back down beside her, squeezing her hand. "We need the rest, and the nightmares usually leave me for a few weeks."

Like a blanket, her hair spread across him, tickling and soothing. Closing his eyes, he sighed as every muscle relaxed, and all tension of fear left him. Sleep would soon reclaim him, but he surrendered to it willingly.

"I love you, Hordak," Entrapta told him.

It had become her habit to tell him she loved him whenever they had partings, even when they slept. It was her way of dealing with how they were separated in the Fright Zone. Was it out of fear that they would be separated again, and he would believe she betrayed him again? It brought a sense of guilt that he ever doubted her.

"I love you, Entrapta."

***

"Oh, oh, there's going to be trouble."

Those were the words he kept hearing throughout the castle since Entrapta received the letter. It had come two days ago via a small drone. It was a single piece of rolled parchment with only two written lines in neat print.

I am arriving in three days.  
Signed, Uncle Coda

The letter was delivered with breakfast via the busgirl. Entrapta beamed in delight over the array of tiny pancakes while an average size omelet was for him. The scroll was laid on a platter between them, and Hordak picked up and unrolled it.

"Are you aware of an Uncle Coda?" He asked with an arched eye ridge.

"Oh! Yeah, he's my Mom's brother," Entrapta declared, popping a few pancake stacks into her mouth and rinsing them down with a large swallow of soda.

It took him a moment to recall the family structure of Etherian families and nodded. "It says he's arriving in three days. Do you know why?"

"No idea," Entraptra replied. "He hasn't come by the castle in . . .um. . . .a few years."

A few years he learned meant the last time Entrapta saw him was when she was five years old. Hordak wasn't too familiar with family dynamics, but from his understanding, their visits should be more frequent than that. He kept this comment to himself and informed the servants about the impending arrival. Their reactions mingled from horror, amusement, and dread, and that was when the words 'there's going to be trouble' whispered throughout the castle.

He turned to Zed for help with no wish to disturb Entrapta, but having no experience when confronting servants or getting information. The servants were all comfortable around Zed and even liked him a great deal. They treated him as one of their own instead of the brother of the princess's partner.

It was the day before Uncle Coda would arrive that Zed finally reported to Hordak what the situation was. The baker had taken Zed aside and explained why they were so worried.

"Uncle Coda has been running Dryl since Lady Entrapta's parents passed away."

Hordak blinked. They were outside on one of the balconies, both wearing winter clothes to guard against the cold. Hordak wore a dark blue coat with a long wine color cloak. The long robe and tall boots shielded his legs, but he may honestly have to break down and resign himself to wearing wool pants if he were to continue going outside. Meanwhile, Zed was bundled up in a dark fur coat that looked better suited on a bear. His brilliant colored hair stood out like a glowing rainbow on a dark night.

"I can understand why he would perform as regent when Entrapta was a child, but she's an adult woman now."

"True, but Entrapta has never made any political decisions," Zed explained. "Everything goes through Uncle Coda. When the Princess Alliance believed her dead, he was making plans to instate himself as the Prince of Dyrl until Entrapta surrendered her kingdom to the Fright Zone."

He must have been disappointed, Hordak thought to himself, to have lost a title that was never his.

Outloud, he asked, "I still do not understand the servants being anxious."

"Oh, remember last month when the request for financial support came from the Builders Association."

Hordak recalled the request that arrived that morning while Entrapta was repairing a glitch in Emily's leg. He read over the request, deemed it a necessary expense, and after checking with the coffers to ensure the money was available, he approved the request. Afterward, he had forgotten all about it until now. "What of it?"

"The Builders Association had sent the same request to Uncle Coda the month before," Zed glanced about as if nervous that someone was listening. "He turned them down."

Oh, now it all made sense. Bracing his hands on the frosted stone, he sighed. "So, he's coming here to see if I am taking Dryl from under his nose."

"Or to explain why you shouldn't have approved the request," Zed said, hopefully.

Zed had always been the optimistic brother, but Hordak was more familiar with the whimsical balance of power and the greed and jealousy it can cause. It was likely that Uncle Coda was coming to see if the former leader of the dissolved Horde Army was trying to reclaim power starting in Dryl. Should he talk to Entrapta about this?

As he returned to the warmer indoors, he asked himself why Entrapta shouldn't make these decisions herself? He did run the request by her about the Builders Association's request, and she agreed that expansion and artisans should be supported in this time of rebuilding. Perhaps she should have been the one to send the response? Could it have prevented Uncle Coda's unexpected visit?

***

When Uncle Coda arrived, they were down in the labs working collaborating units together when they were given word of his arrival. One of the first changes he insisted upon moving into the castle with Entrapta was signs and a more straightforward layout of the castle's interior. Most of the clones made their home in the Dryl before going their separate ways to make new lives. Without a hive-mind, there was no sharing of information or exchanging what they've learned with others, so most were getting lost while navigating to their respective lodgings.

This was quite the boon for the servants who could never find their way to serve meals to the princess and had relied upon robots to do it for them. With it easier to get around the castle, there was more activity between the servants quarters and the princess's living area.

Setting down his tools, he took off his gloves and laid them on the workbench. "Shall I go ahead?"

Entrapta was engrossed in how the parts fit together, trying to make movement as smooth as possible so the robots wouldn't have any problems functioning. She wholeheartedly believed that it would cause discomfort to the robots if they didn't get the parts right. He once tried to explain Artificial Intelligence and how it couldn't perceive pain as she believed, but she stoutly remained firm in her beliefs.

"Sure! I'll be up in a few minutes."

Hordak had the feeling that her 'few minutes' could become a few hours instead. Time had a habit of eluding Entrapta's timekeeping. Which was just as well as Hordak believed that Uncle Coda had come to Dryl to see him alone.

When Hordak first saw the man, he saw all the signs that proved he was a relative of Entrapta. He had the same short stature, but a bit rotund around the middle than she. His purple hair was clipped short into a precise bowl cut, and a matching mustache was trimmed neatly beneath his nose. He was dusting off frost from his shoulders as if offended that ice should dare cling to his clothing.

"I hope your journey was peaceful," Hordak greeted coolly. He wasn't accustomed to polite greetings, and he didn't trust this man. If he was honest with himself, Hordak hated the man at first sight.

"Hmmm," was Uncle Coda's only response. "Where is Entrapta?"

"Finishing up in the labs," Hordak said, maintaining a polite voice. "She will join us shortly."

"Hmph, I'm surprised," Uncle Coda murmured. "I expected you to say she's still locked up in a dungeon while you take over Dryl."

Hordak's eyes narrowed into red slashes. "Not this particular day."

"Was that supposed to be a joke?" Uncle Coda demanded, violet eyes flashing.

"No. I haven't locked her up this day nor any other day," Hordak replied just as sharp. "If you wish to wait until she joins us to have this meeting, then wait we shall."

"No need. I came to see you in particular," Coda said, dismissing the notion of meeting with the Princess of Dryl, his niece. "I take it, you know why I came here today?"

"Yes, the Builders Association," Hordak said evenly.

As if in a conscious agreement to continue matters while seated, they both took a seat at the polished metal table, but it might as well be a battlefield from how they were glaring at each other.

"Should I call you Lord Hordak, or would Hordak be fine?" Coda began, taking the first shot. He said Hordak's name as if it was a different word altogether.

"No need for formalities," Hordak replied, returning fire. "After all, we are practically family."

"Oh, so you've made an honest woman out of my niece in secret?" Coda said, pulling out all the stops. "Congratulations."

"We're not married," Hordak seethed.

"And is that going to change soon, or do you intend to keep using her for social status?"

"I am not using Entrapta," Hordak spoke with steel in his voice. "I am here by her invitation, and if she ever tells me to go, I will leave. Now I believe you are here about the request I approved, the same one you declined."

"Yes, because right now Dryl needs to focus on mining. The money sent to the Builders Association would have gone into purchasing mining equipment and paying miner's wages."

"Why is the focus on mining when there are towns and villages still in ruins?" Hordak replied. "There are people still living in tent towns because they have no homes."

His thought went to the Enclave of clones living in shoddily constructed huts and wondered if they had accepted the supplies he sent. He should check on them as soon as time permitted.

"Dryl's economy is still stunted by the war and temporary annexation with the Fright Zone," Coda leveled a harsh gaze at Hordak. "You ought to know that your cat second in command drained all the coffers and took all the precious minerals for the Fright Zone's war effort. And none of it was returned when the Fright Zone was turned over to Princess Scorpia."

Damn, he cursed himself. If only he had paid attention to such matters instead of leaving it to Shadow Weaver and then Catra to handle administrative issues. However, would he have overturned such decisions back later?

"Then that is an issue that should be taken up with Princess Scorpia," Hordak said, tapping a claw tip on the table. "She has made reparations with other kingdoms and would surely make such concessions for Dryl."

"I knew you were a damn fool," Coda fired off, slamming a fist onto the table. "But I had no idea you were a damn ignorant fool."

 _My arms are just long enough to reach across this table and put my hands around his throat._ Hordak considered this but decided against it as Entrapta could come in at any moment and wouldn't want her to see him strangling her only family.

"Do you wish to continue insulting me, or would you please explain what the problem is?" Hordak said as calmly as he could manage.

As if realizing that he crossed a line, Coda cleared his throat and adjusted his collar as if embarrassed by his outburst. "The problem Princess Scorpia's treasurer has is to determine how much each kingdom should receive. It will take them years to sort out that massive knot and years more to distribute the money. Dryl can't afford to sit on the ground with hands out like a beggar."

"I agree," Hordak replied. "Which is why it's best not to have its people live like beggars. People who don't have to worry about dying from the cold and elements can put their efforts into finding work and earning wages to buy what they need."

"If you keep putting money in the people's hands, then they'll keep expecting handouts!" Coda retorted. "The people work harder when they are properly motivated."

"When I led the Fright Zone," Hordak seethed. "All the people received room and board, health care, dental, and regular meals, and we were strong enough to almost take over Etheria."

"Oh, oh! So your intentions have revealed themselves!" Coda said, rising like a God of Judgement. The little man was standing in his chair, and his bowl-cut hair cut whipped about his head like small angry snakes. "You intend to turn Dryl into the next Fright Zone!"

"Now who's the fool!?" Hordak roared. "I have no plans to reinstate the Horde, nor would I ever break the peace Etheria had suffered to attain."

"Suffered because of you!" Coda hissed. "You venomous motherless cur of a self deluded megalomaniac!"

"Watch your words, little man," Hordak rose, towering over Coda from across the table with his greater height. "Or you're going to find out how the Fright Zone earned its name!"

At that moment, the door opened, and the servant known as Soda Pop waltz in, bearing a tray of drinks and snacks. "Forgive me, my lords. I came as soon as I could -"

He froze as he beheld the two combatants. Hordak with his arms wide and hands spread with all of his claws exposed as if to start tearing out throats. On the other side of the table was Coda brandishing his chair with his bowl cut standing on end. Thus far, neither of them was willing to go around the table after their opponent, but it would only take a small infraction to cross the decency and savagery line.

Soda Pop moved with the tension and care of someone walking through a landmine field and gingerly set the tray on the table and scooted it between the opponents. There was a brief thought that he was giving them missiles to throw at each other, not to mention that a face full of hot tea could be damaging. Still, the laws of hospitality decreed that he, as a servant, should offer refreshments, and he was fulfilling that duty with honor despite the danger to himself and others.

Then he stepped back as if from an open flame and with a bow said, "I'll go fetch the Princess, shall I?"

Without waiting for permission, he fled from the room, and his footsteps could be heard echoing down the hall.


	3. Uncomfortable Conversations

Dinner began as a quiet affair, much like a Cold War. Hordak sat on one end of the long table viciously glaring down the length at Coda, who returned his glare with a deep scowl. Between then, Entrapta nibbled her tiny foods while sipping from a bottle of a fizzy soda.

He and Entrapta usually took their meals in the labs or the bedroom when they decided to turn in early. The dining hall was typically empty and dark, but tonight it was lit up with candles and servants serving dishes and standing at attention. Hordak wasn't accustomed to so much activity around a meal. If he tried, he could recall Horde Prime holding such dinner when he decided to entertain those he found worthy of being his guests.

"I want to apologize," Coda began, short fingers tapping the table. "I may have let my temper get the better of me."

Hordak bit the inside of his mouth hard to almost draw blood. A pointed look from Entrapta pushed him to reciprocate. "And I too apologize. My anger, though justified, should not have directed me to react with violence."

"Well, I suppose it would be difficult for you. For so long, your emotions were controlled by a mad man, so free must be a novelty."

His claws left four neat lines on the edge of the table, but he maintained his composure. "I regret that we aren't on the same page about the Builders Association."

"No, we're not," Coda said, eyes so much like Entrapta's narrowed slightly, the widen in a more amicable appearance. "But what's done is done, and there's no undoing an official decree. As long as it never happens again."

Hordak felt Entrapta's hair on his knee, giving it a reassuring and supportive rub. As much as he would have love to sling the little man through a window, he swallowed back his pride. "Of course. It was a misunderstanding and won't happen again."

He was rewarded with an approving pat on the knee, which almost made up for the satisfied glint in Coda's eye.

Then dinner was served, and there was peace for almost ten minutes. Hordak considered how he could inquire about when Coda was leaving without coming across as rude or eager to see the back of him. It was a shame that he couldn't growl and order him to 'get out' as he did in his Sanctum.

"Niece, there is a matter that I've been meaning to discuss with you," Coda said, for the first time giving his direct attention to Entrapta.

"Sure, Uncle Coda, do you want to talk about?" Entrapta said as a tendril of hair clutched a soda pop bottle.

"It's a delicate matter, but it must be discussed sooner rather than later," Coda continued.

"Delicate? Like computer parts? You just have to repair them in a dry area with little static. We have suits you can wear that reduce static, but it's best just to take your clothes off."

Hordak took pleasure in Coda's raised eyebrows until a suspicious look was cast his way. "Ah, no, it's more of a . . . lineage issue. I'm a traditional man, as you well know. I was a lad long before the Horde rears its ugly head."

This time the accusatory look wasn't disguised. Hordak took a long pull from his glass of wine, hoping that Coda would get to the point already.

"When I was a lad, princesses, and princes paired for political and financial aims. Such pairings brought riches, security, and prosperity," Coda continued. "The original purpose of Princess Prom was to allow princesses and princes to mingle and form connections to each other."

Where was this heading? Hordak arched an eye ridge, but stayed silent and looked to Entrapta, who didn't seem to know any more than him what Coda was aiming for. She was listening, nodding along, while her brow creased in confusion.

As if catching on that his audience wasn't grasping his meaning, he tried a different approach. "Prince Peekablue's parents met at Princess Prom and were wedded after a six-month engagement. His father required money, and his mother provided that money upon their wedding day. Their kingdoms became close allies since that day, and Prince Peekablue is the result of that union."

Why was he going over history that meant little to nothing to the present? What did it matter to them of the parentage of a forgotten prince? Should he say something? Demand that Coda gets to the point, so they finish dinner already?

"Such traditions were commonplace among the kingdoms," Coda sighed as if grieving a loss. "And it seems because of the war the princesses have gone astray in their choosings. Queen Glimmer has taken on a scholarly archer, Princess Mermista has paired with a ridiculous sea captain arsonist, and even She-Ra has settled for a stray cat."

A sneaking unsettling realization was forming, and Hordak narrowed his eyes, at last, seeing where this inane topic was heading.

"The only pairing that has made any sense these last few years is Princess Netossa and Spinnerella."

Setting down his wine glass with a sharp thunk, Hordak seethed. "And what of Princess Perfuma and Princess Scorpia? Is their pairing not to your satisfaction?"

Coda sniffed, disliking being interrupted, but never one to not give his opinion. "The flower princess and the scorpion princess matter little. One is the leader of tree people, and the other calls a wasteland her kingdom. I'd sooner care if my housekeeper wedded the stablehand or doorman."

"Perfuma and Scorpia are my friends," Entrapta said, her hair almost drooping. "What you said isn't nice."

Seeing Entrapta distressed was enough to set his teeth on edge. "Get to the point, Coda, or are you going to have us sit here listening to your judge every royal in Etheria."

"My point is," Coda said, eyes narrowing. "Is that you have paired yourself with the ex-lord of the Fright Zone who brings no lands, wealth, or any political advantage. He's nothing more than a freeloading paramour who eats your food and sleeps with you."

"Oh, you bastard," Hordak seethed, slamming his fists on the table and rising. "Get out! You are no longer welcomed in Dryl!"

"And it is not your place to welcome or banish guests!" Coda cried, just as furious. "Much less me, a member of the royal family who was born in this castle and grew up in these very halls long before your shadow darkened the land!"

"I very well can!" Hordak began moving around the table. He didn't know what would have happened if he had made it around the table. Perhaps he would have strangled Coda or punted him through a window or dragged him bodily through the castle gates.

"Hordak!"

Long purple hair encircled his waist, halting his approach, then he was scooted to his place and firmly set back in his seat. Entrapta gave him a look before turning back to Coda.

"Uncle Coda, Hordak is my lab partner," Entrapta said. "He's been helping me dismantle weapons and revamp them to help others. We've been building transports, farming equipment, and even mining machines which we can send to your mines. He has been an asset to Dryl and Etheria since the war ended."

Before Coda could speak, Entrapta's hair rose and molded into a shape of a hand with a finger raised to silence him. Placing her hand over Hordak's, giving it a gentle squeeze, Entrapta continued, "And I love Hordak. I don't need wealth, lands, or politics from him. I just want him as he is, imperfections and all."

Her words soothed his fury Eand genuine warmth and affection filled him for Entrapta, the woman who had become the core of his life. However, the moment of sentimental feelings wasn't to last for long.

"Please, don't embarrass the kingdom by having a child out of wedlock. If you insist on following in the foolish whimsical choices of the other princesses, then please refrain from having a swollen belly until after the wedding."

Hordak withdrew his hand and looked away, a hot flush across his cheeks.

"Oh! Don't worry!" Entrapta said brightly. "We haven't done anything to get me pregnant."

The flush spread from his cheeks across his face. Why was Entrapta telling this?

As if from a long end of a tunnel, Coda's voice echoed into Hordak's ears. "Wait? Do you mean that you use proper protection? Or ap. . .?"

"No need for protection!" Entrapta declared. "We've only been exploring."

Hordak stared at the wall as if it held all the answers as something hot roiled through him. He knew Coda was staring at him, but now it seemed that a hundred eyes were on him, watching him and seeing vulnerable parts of him. It was like having his mind read by Horde Prime again.

"I'm no longer hungry," Hordak said, rising without looking at Entrapta or Coda. "I'm going to retire early."

“Hordak?” Entrapdak said.

A tendril of hair touched his hand, and he brushed it away. Without a word or looking back, he left the dining hall. It felt better to get away from the dining hall, but his body felt flushed as if he had been standing in the hot sun for hours. He followed the halls towards the bedroom but stopped considering spending the night in the labs or, better yet, going to Zed's room to spend the night and sleep on the floor.

"Hordak!"

She was calling him and would quickly catch up to him with the swings of her hair. If he was quick enough, he could duck into a side room and avoid her.

Was he avoiding Entrapta? Every second with her had been a gift he was unworthy of, so why did he now find being around her distasteful? What was this feeling? He was angry, but it was different. It was anger at not only at others but at himself as well.

Was this what humiliation felt like? Or was it shame? Both?

"Hordak?" She had caught up to him, suspended from the rafter by her hair. There was a soft tap as she dropped to the floor and approached him. "Hordak, are you okay?"

"I'm. . . I'm fine," he said.

"Did I . . . did I say something wrong?"

"I . . .Entrapta, you didn't have to . . ." Talking about it made it worse, but he and Entrapta agreed they would discuss their feelings. "You didn't have to tell him about . . .about our exploration."

"But I didn't want him to think I was going to get pregnant," Entrapta said, swiveling herself around to face him, her hair acting as long arms with the dexterity of an ape.

"It . . .it was none of his business!" Hordak explained, raking claws through his disheveled hair. "I didn't want him to know that we . . .we hadn’t . . .”

"Oh," Entrapta replied, deflating a bit. "I should have been more careful. I'm sorry that I upset you."

"You didn't upset me," Hordak was quick to say. "It's Coda. How dare he come here and say those things and pry into our business."

"Well, he is running Dryl," Entrapta admitted.

"But why? I can see why he would run things when you were small, but you're an adult now. You and I can lead Dryl together."

"I . . .I don't know how," Entrapta said, looking uncomfortable. "I mean, I tried to learn a long time ago, but I'm better with machines and don't make good decisions. Uncle Coda has been doing alright for so long that I don't see a problem of letting him continue doing so.

She did switch sides twice during the war and let the Fright Zone annex her kingdom.

Hordak could see what she meant. "Alright, then he should return home tomorrow and leave us in peace."

"That's probably for the best."

Yet, Entrapta still seemed disconcerted. She was silent as they retired to bed and sat silently on the bed in her shorts and nightshirt while he changed into a long nightgown. It was of a thin silky material he enjoyed on his skin. It whispered as he settled onto the bed of cushions next to Entratpa.

He recalled somewhere that it was always better to make peace with a partner before retiring for the day, so there were no lingering hard feelings in the new day. Though, he didn't believe that was possible until Coda was long gone from here.

"I . . .I should not have lost my temper," Hordak said. "I allowed Coda to once again get under my skin."

"Hordak," Entrapta said, and there was a note of anxiety in her voice that concerned him. "Do you . . .do you want to . . .do more than explore?"

A sudden flush set into his cheeks again as his ears laid downward. "I . . .I love you, Entrapta."

"I know, and I love you too, but . . . maybe we should . . .We should do more than just say it?"

Intense heat rolled from his stomach and throughout his chest. He stared at Entrapta, noticing the pleasant structure of her face, the feminine curves of her body that in recent months had become alluring for him. "I want . . .I want you, not just emotionally. But I don't want you to feel that you should . . ."

"I never thought about it before," Entrapta admitted. "I studied it growing up when I grew older, and my body began to change, but I never thought I would want to do something like that with anyone . . .until you."

"Neither have I."

They sat together, close enough to touch, but not doing so. Both were looking away and not knowing what to say. They had shared a bed for so long, but not their bodies. They were both adults, consenting, and in love with each other. What was the problem?

Was he the problem? He had studied upon the subject of love and had learned that some women prefer to allow the man to take charge, seize control of the situation, and ravish them in a near assault. It wasn't something he wanted to do, nor did he think Entrapta would enjoy it. Sometimes the woman took control, and he would give into whatever she desired, but she hadn't. . .or wouldn't. . .take charge.

Was it necessary for one half to take the lead? Why not start together? Or how to start? It would have to start with kissing and caressing, that was the bare basics, but what happens when it escalates? He understood sexual intercourse, but not the emotions and techniques behind it.

He had no practice, so what if he couldn't please her? And did she have the same thoughts? And what if he hurt her?

"We could try," Entrapta whispered.

"No," Hordak said quickly. "When we have sex, it won't be because we were pushed into it by your uncle. When we do it, it will be on our terms and our terms alone."

Yet, he held her as she slept, his arms wrapped around her waist, his face in her shoulder as the thoughts kept him awake. She was so small in his arms, almost like a child. With his greater strength and size, he could cause great harm to her. Damn Coda for bringing this issue to the fore. It was something they would have eventually worked out together, or never brought up between them.

Her gentle breathing lulled him into a restless sleep, and it wasn't until she wriggled to get free that he woke.

***

"I believe I must apologize," Coda said that morning during breakfast.

Hordak had no wish to see the bastard before seeing the back of him, but it was proper etiquette to see a guest off after a shared breakfast, and he was determined not to give any reason to gripe about them. So he would endure another meal and try not to kick Coda in the ass on his way out the door.

"No, there's no need to apologize," Hordak sneered. "You're only concerned for your kingdom and your niece, but let me assure you, she's in good hands."

"Whose hands?" Coda asked as he raised a mug to his lips. "Certainly not yours from what I gathered last night."

_I could snap his neck with these hands, but that would be too quick a death for him._

Entrapta sat silently at the table and gave Hordak an encouraging smile. It was almost over. Coda would be back at his estate and so very far away from their lives. He just has to endure another half hour of unpleasant small talk.

"It's strange," Coda said, pondering, with a telltale smugness that grated on Hordak's nerves. "You're clones, but you're so different."

"Well, Zed prefers to have more than one color in his hair," Hordak replied, wondering when Coda had a chance to meet Zed.

"Oh, no, not your brother here," Coda corrected. "I mean the captain of the Crimson Bride."

For almost a minute, Coda enjoyed his breakfast, pretending not to notice the blank looks from both Entrapta and Hordak. When he 'realized' they were staring at him, he feigned concerned surprise. "You haven't heard? Well, you are isolated away in the mountains and busy with labs and machines," Coda looked directly at Hordak, and a hint of a smile loomed behind his eyes. "And not much else."

The fork folded in Hordak's grasp before he slowly set it down. "Please, tell us more about this captain."

"It's all rumors, but I have reliable sources in Seaworthy that tell me that one of your 'brothers' won a ship after winning a duel with the previous captain and is harassing the trade ships to Salineas. And when he isn't robbing and pilfering, he's drinking and whoring in Seaworthy and other seaports along the coast."

"And it's one of my brothers?" Hordak blinked, in complete disbelief. Most of his brothers, save for the Enclave, have gone on to find productive lives on Etheria or left to find lives elsewhere in the Universe. As far as he knew, none of them have resorted to criminal activity.

"Hmmm, I'm fairly certain," Coda said, quite pleased with being the bearer of bad news. "Some call him the Crimson Bastard because of his ruby red hair and eyes. Thus far, Princess Mermista hasn't issued any complaints, but it's only a matter of time before the Crimson Bastard gets bold enough to attack a Salineas town. I would certainly look into it soon if I were you."


	4. Seaworthy

The cold sea spray clung to the edge of his cloak, dampening the hem, making him long for the dry mountains of Dryl and Entrapta's presence. He had never been so far away from Entrapta since the war's end. She wanted to come with him, but he insisted that he handle this alone with Zed coming along. She wouldn't let him leave unless he had some help with him. And yet, here, Zed stood beside him in a deep fur cloak catching a cold and sniffling. 

Even winter was making its mark in Seaworthy, and the only the most dedicated sea people went without cloaks or furs for warmth against the sea spray and light rain. The chill reached through his cloak and sank deep into his bones. The sooner they got out of the cold, the better.

His fur-lined boots cut through a puddle towards a tavern. People parted in their path, giving them a cautious wide berth in a sign they have not yet forgotten Horde Prime's occupation when clones were to be feared. 

It was just as well for now. They would see about getting information in the tavern after they warmed up a bit. As they neared the front doors, the sweet scents of cooking meat and spiced wine. Customers were chatting and dining, some even playing a round of cards and dice. There was a sudden hush when he entered. Eyes flitted towards him; some curious and others speculative, but it was a momentary distraction, and they resumed their current business of eating or gambling. However, some eyes followed them as they strolled to a nearby table. 

Though the clones were identical, his blue hair and vivid red eyes would be recognizable to the Horde's former soldiers. With his hood across his eyes, he selected a table in the far corner, and Zed sat across from him, looking about the tavern with open curiosity that bordered on gawking.

"Stop staring," Hordak whispered. 

"Oh, sorry, I just never been in a place like this."

The same could be said for many places in Zed's case. And if Hordak was honest with himself, it was true for himself as well. 

He was having second thoughts about coming here but saw no other way to resolve this matter. If a brother was harassing Salineas ships, then he had to be stopped before things escalated. Most of Etheria had accepted the clones, but there were places whose tolerance was fragile—harassing Salineas might be what tips the scales against them. If the Crimson Bastard came through and stood out as the rumors implied, then surely someone had news of where he was or when he would be coming into port again. 

When he was Lord of the Fright Zone, it would have been a simple enough matter to send someone to fetch information about a target or just have them destroy the interloper while he remained safe and secluded in his Sanctum. This new life required more acclimating than he ever would have imagined.

"Brother," Zed whispered. "Look."

"Pointing makes it obvious that we are staring," Hordak chastised, but was taken with what Zed indicated behind the bar.

It was another brother, but Hordak didn't recognize him. They wore a long sherwani of bright blue color with golden brocade along the sleeves and chest. The hair was long past the ears and was a soft peach color with matching eyes outlined in thin black liner. What made Hordak mistook him for a native Etherian was the elaborate tattoos of flowery vines arching up against his neck and along his left cheek. On the right side of his face was a flock of birds taking flight as if going for his peach color eye. Even his hands were covered in tattoos. Small stars along with his fingers and meeting in a wide star on the back of his right hand while the left hand had a rose in full bloom. He was setting filled mugs on a tray for a waiting barmaid who whisked the tray away in a flurry of skirts and buzz of dragonfly wings. 

"Do we know him, brother?"

"No. Maybe . . .I don't know," Hordak muttered. When they were clones and extensions of Horde Prime, they had no identity or anything to set them apart. If one looked for it, there were nuances in the faces such as a thinner face, a broader forehead, or larger eyes, but with no names or any identifying titles, it was impossible to be sure. He might have worked side by side with the tattooed brother for years. "I'm going to speak with him. Perhaps he knows about the one we seek."

Zed rose as if to go with him, but Hordak waved him away. "Stay, I can handle this myself. This isn't the Enclave."

"That doesn't mean this place is any safer," Zed pointed out. 

Hordak suspected that Zed simply didn't want to be left alone, even from across a tavern hall, but couldn't fault him. They were in an unknown element, especially an independent area between the Horde and the Princess Alliance. The best they could hope for was indifference, but it was possible that there was hostility among those that suffered at the Horde's hands. 

But it was comforting to see a brother who seems at home in Seaworthy. Hordak approached the counter with Zed trailing along behind him. It wasn't so much as recognition as an annoyance that greeted them when the colorful clone met their gaze. 

In a smooth deep voice they all shared, he spoke with a slight coastal accent picked up from the locals. "You'll have to wait for the barmaid unless you want to take your drink at the bar."

"We'll accept a drink," Hordak said, brushing back his hood. "But we're looking for someone."

The clone raised an eye ridge. "Information isn't cheap, and I don't like talking with a dry voice and paying customers have priority."

Gone were the days when the information was freely given to him either from a subordinate or the hive-mind. Hordak reached into a purse at his hip and plucked a few coins and laid them on the counter. "A round for the three of us and some answers to questions."

The clone eyed the coins, and eyes widened in recognition as they were of high value throughout the kingdoms. Not many carried such coins unless they were connected to wealth or royalty. There were benefits of being the significant other of a princess. "Have a seat and make yourself comfortable while I fetch the drinks."

"What's your name?" Zed asked. He was staring in open wonder at the tattoos. 

"My partner named me Canvas," the clone said as he collected three large mugs from beneath the bar. As if he felt the need to explain, he added, "He's the best tattoo artist along the coast."

"He is!" Zed said admirably. "I've never seen such beautiful ink."

Hordak wondered when Zed had become such an admirer of tattoos, but it was the right thing to say. Canvas gave Zed a small smile, the hard lines of his demeanor softening around the edges. "If you're interested, he'll be more than happy to do some ink on you."

Zed's eyes widened in awe, and Hordak could see the sparkle in his eyes. Perhaps bringing Zed along wasn't such a bad idea. There was something about him, a charm that made strangers relax and open to engagement. It was something that illuded him, but it was something he could take advantage of when the time came.

"We're looking for the captain of the Crimson Bride," Hordak said as Canvas filled the mugs.

This earned him a curious glance. "And you think I would know where he is? Forgive me, brother, but without the hive-mind, we have no idea where the other is."

"I heard that he frequents Seaworthy," Hordak pressed.

"Everyone that makes a living at sea frequents Seaworthy," Canvas said with an apparent eye roll. "Sailors, pirates, captains, and fishermen all come to Seaworthy at one time or another."

"True, but this one would stand out as a fellow brother who became a captain," Hordak ventured, accepting the mug when it was pushed towards him. "He won the ship in a duel."

With an impatient look, Canvas shook his head. "Ships pass hands constantly in Seaworthy. Whether it's through dice, cards, arm wrestling, or outright duels, ships get passed around like a ball on a playground."

This wasn't helping. Hordak tapped his claw tips on the bar to rein in his irritation. Shouting wouldn't encourage Canvas to give him proper answers. And why was he difficult unless . . .

"You know him. Don't you?" Hordak said, leaning forward suddenly, almost tipping over the mug set before him. 

Leaned against the shelves behind him with his arms crossed, returning Hordak's glare with an identical one of his own. "Don't we all know each other, brother?"

"Stop being vague and answer me," he hissed. 

"Brothers, please," Zed whimpered nervously. "Let us not argue."

The tension was broken when the barmaid buzzed to the counter. She was barely half their size with dragonfly wings buzzing in a blue of silver that carried her and her cargo of plates and mugs on a tray. After setting the tray on the counter, she settled on her feet and sighed, "Canvas, table three wants another round."

"I'll have it ready in a second," Canvas said, turning away to grab a bottle from a high shelf. 

"Okay, gonna check on the other tables." With that said, she flew off across the hall, above the tables and heads of customers. 

Hordak was not to be distracted. "Why are you protecting him?"

"He doesn't need my protection," Canvas muttered, turning around only to fill glasses. "Crim knows how to take care of himself."

"Crim? Is that his name?" Hordak asked, relief filling him that he was finally getting somewhere. "Do you know where we can find him?"

"No, I don't," Canvas replied, arranging the filled glasses on a clean tray. As is sensing the hard look from Hordak, he looked up and said, "I really don't. Ever since Crim won the ship and crew, he goes wherever the wind takes him."

"How often does he come to Seaworthy?" 

"Not often enough that I can predict when he comes and goes," Canvas said as he lifted the tray and held it above his head. The barmaid flew above their heads, catching the tray from Canvas's hands as she passed. In a wide arc, she flies back to the tables to deliver the drinks. Then Canvas carried the dirty mugs and plates to a sink to begin washing them. "If you stay in Seaworthy long enough, he'll show up."

"How do you know him?" Hordak asked, finally taking a seat at the bar. 

"How else?" Canvas replied with his back to them, washing dishes. "We shared a tent in Dryl until we both left that place together for Seaworthy. I got a job here, and he joined a crew. He was gone for a month, then came back as captain of his own ship. After that, we part ways. I stay here, and he sails the Etherian sea."

"Is there anyone that can tell me where he is?"

"I suppose you can go to the brothel down the street. He might have bragged about his exploits to one of the prostitutes," Canvas said with a shrug. 

With a frustrated growl, Hordak finally gave attention to his mug, picking it up and draining it several swallows. The spice in the ale was pleasant enough to calm him, but it still burned him that his mission was going to take longer than he anticipated, and he hated being without Entrapta. 

"Does Crim come here when he visits Seaworthy?" Hordak asked, setting the mug down with a thump.

"If not him, then some members of his crew do," Canvas said, reclaiming the mug with a long reach of an arm. Over his shoulder, he said, "Look, I can't give you an exact day and time of when he comes to port here. What I can do, if you're staying in Seaworthy, is send word that his ship is docking."

"How much for a room?" Hordak said, resigning himself to being in Seaworthy for a few days.

***

While Hordak was content to remain in their shared room and wait, Zed wasn't so willing to sit still. Like a child in a new place, he wanted to explore, and Hordak has to become quite stern in telling him to stay in the tavern. It was until one morning, two days into their stay in Seaworthy, that Canvas waved him over to the bar. 

"I put the word out. He'll be safe," Canvas said softly while swabbing our a mug. "Nobody in Seaworthy will so much as blink wrong in his space if you catch my meaning."

"How can you be sure?" Hordak inquired with a quirked eye ridge. 

"My boyfriend is the best tattoo artist on the coast. If they don't want their ink to come out as rude pictures or messages to Princess Mermista, they best not anger him or me."

And that resolved the matter of dealing with an antsy Zed who came back safe and unharmed each afternoon. 

Being alone gave Hordak plenty of time to think in silence. How could he handle Crim, aka the Crimson Bastard, when he finally came face to face with him? Tell him to stop it? It was doubtless Crim would have any inclination of ceasing what must be a lucrative endeavor. 

It would be too easy to enlist the Princesses' aid or use their own means to stop him. Yet, he feared that asking them to intervene would bring attention to not only Crim but the Enclave as well. Willow Square was too fresh in his mind to risk their subjects are. 

It had happened a week after Horde Prime's fall. Most clones were scattered throughout Etheria; all cut off from the hive-mind and unknowing what had occurred. The natives have taken this opportunity for revenge. Willow Squared was named for its great willow tree, and that day when the Princess led retrieval went to collect the clones stationed there, they found every branch of that willow tree with a noose and a clone at the end of it. 

It wouldn't take much for Etheria to raise arms against them again. He didn't fear himself. Losing his brothers would cause him great pain, but Entrapta would defend him with every robot, trap, and weapon at her disposal. And if the Princesses were leading the genocide, they would prove victorious in the end, and Entrapta would suffer the consequences of her aligning with him. 

It brought little comfort in knowing his fears were only hypotheticals and would happen under extreme circumstances, but they haunted him. A part of him wanted to take Entrapta and go to another planet, far from Etheria, and before, when they built the portal, she would have jumped for the chance. However, she now had ties that bind her here. From her friendships, undoing the harm the Horde has caused, and her dedication to helping the clones lead new lives. 

"I see every one of them as a part of you," she told him one day as they settled together for sleep. 

To be fair to her and himself, she was right. The clones were him years ago. Cut off from the hive-mind for the first time and not knowing what to do. If they had the means, would they have tried to build a new empire if they weren't given a new means of support?

His thoughts went to the Enclave, and how they outright refused to move beyond the roles, Horde Prime slotted them into. He regretted not checking on them before leaving Dryl as he had expected this trip to last only a day or two. 

"They're fine!" Entrapta assured him when he contacted home. 

Network communication was shoddy at best for magical Etheria. There must be something gin the atmosphere that interfered with radio waves or frequencies. And a planet computer network was just blueprints in Queen's companion, Bow's workshop. The tablet screen had static crawling across it as he updated her in his status. 

"They accepted supplies and food, but I don't think their leader was too happy about it. He was waving his arms around, saying that Horde Prime was watching everything. Things like that."

"I wouldn't worry. He can only hold out for so long before he has no more followers."

The day before Hordak left for Seaworthy, one of the Enclave arrived at the castle. It was the thin clone who said he was scared. He would make a full recovery as the Baker instantly took a maternal shine to him and saw to his care herself. 

Hordak wondered if she should have taken time to question the clone about the Enclave. He wasn't sure what the Speaker would do with so little resources and clones ailing from cold and hunger, but eventually, he would have to deal with it once and for all. 

Longing for Entrapta's embrace took his mind off another issue that had been tearing its ugly head. His condition, the defect in his cloning. Returning to Horde Prime had reduced the deterioration, but completely cured it. Why would Horde Prime bother himself with correcting a flaw in the DNA when he could easily create flawless clones to replace a defective?

Now the defect was making itself known in the veins at his arms and shoulders. Entrapta was quit to recreate his suit, but she also insisted that he see a doctor and a mystic. As much as he didn't want to give himself over to the hands of backwater medicine and magic, he couldn't say no when Entrapta gathered him up in her hair and took him to said professionals. 

The healing said that stress made the symptoms worse and encouraged him to have plenty of rest and a proper diet. They didn't manage to come away with pain medicine to help with the episodes and episodes. The mystic, surprisingly, was more helpful. They brewed a potion that slowed the effects of the defect and healed the damage. Unless they discovered a means to rewrite the error in his DNA, the defect would stay with him as a chronic illness. It was more manageable now without the sudden onset of episodes that had him passed out on the floor. He felt the pain sometimes deep in his bones, and only Entrapta's gentle touches could soothe the pain. 

When it became nine days since they arrived in Seaworthy, Hordak considered returning to Dryl. Their funds were beginning to run low, and he had been without Entrapta too long. Often he would reach for her and find only the empty spot beside him. He missed the soft whisper of her hair flowing over him, caressing and holding him. There was a pleasant scent of oil he associated with her that whenever he thought he caught a whiff of it, a pang would grasp his heart. 

Then just as he decided to tell Zed they would be returning to Dryl today, there was a knock at the door. 

"Hello?" a feminine voice said. It was the fairy barmaid that worked for Canvas. "Mr. Canvas sent me to tell you the Crimson Bride has made port."


	5. Crim

There had been brothels at the Fright Zone's outer edges, and while Hordak had tried to disband them, seeing them as a distraction for the soldiers, they kept springing up like mushrooms after a rain. Since banning such establishments proved to be impossible, Hordak caved into lifting the ban, maintaining a strict decree that they remain outside of military districts. 

He wasn't sure what to expect when he stepped through the doors of the Cloister brothel. Lewd images of entwined bodies, people in different stages of undress, or an outright orgy. Despite himself, he was oddly disappointed as he was surprised when the first floor was similar to Canvas's tavern but more lively. 

Almost every table was filled with people laughing and drinking while being entertained by workers in silks and velvets. The chill from outside barely left him before he was winged by a pretty woman and man who asked to take his cloak and was leading him towards a table. 

"Business or pleasure?" The one at his right said fondly. She had antennas that coiled from the slope of her forehead and long gossamer. 

"I think he's here for business. He has that serious look about him," the one at his left had a long tail with a manta fin trailing behind him. 

"I bet we can turn it to pleasure," the winged woman said with a wink.

"I'm here to see Crim," Hordak said, feeling flustered and regretting coming in. He should have sent a message instead of coming in himself. 

"Crim? He's upstairs," the manta fin man said, wrinkling his nose. "We can send word up that you're here to see him, but it'll be up to him whether he talks to you or not."

"Tell him that his brother wishes to speak with him," Hordak said, gently pulling himself free of them. "I'll wait to hear from him . . .alone.”

They eyed him curiously but respected his wishes. One of them directed him to wait at the bar while the other went upstairs, where a large burly man stood guard. The bartender, a broad shoulder minotaur, asked for his order, but he politely declined. His spine slightly bent, keeping his face away from the open tavern. Without his cloak, he felt exposed, as if trapped in the open in a hostile environment. 

Hordak avoided using his name whenever possible. It drew too much attention and sometimes got an adverse reaction. Being one clone of thousands came as an advantage. Though his hair was blue and eyes red, most couldn't be sure he wasn't another clone mimicking the look. And he supposed it helped that his eyeshadow was no longer so heavy around his eyes. Perhaps no one, not even an ex-Horde soldier, would recognize him.

The manta fin man appeared at his elbow. "Crim said to bring you up to see him. Follow me."

Hordak blinked, glancing at the bouncer at the stairs and then at the manta man. "He can't come downstairs to see me?"

Shrugging, the blue-skinned young man said, "He's a paying customer that can afford a private room. He can come and go out of it as he likes. I can tell him that you rather see him downstairs, but you might be in a bit of a wait."

"How long a wait?" Hordak asked.

"He's been known to stay in that room for hours to days."

Sighing, Hordak stood from his stool. "Alright. Take me up."

The bouncer gave him a shrewd glance as they went up together. Pink tinged his cheeks as he realized that the bouncer might think he was buying an hour with the worker. If he had known that coming to Seaworthy would bring him to such a place, would he have still come? It was too late to ask that question.

Unlike a dirty, sleaze infested place as he had been expecting, he was surprised by how clean the building was. The carpet was vacuumed, walls spotless, and the rail polished. And it was oddly quiet. Was the flesh side of this business slow in the mornings?

As if reading his mind, the manta man explained, "Each of the rooms has a soundproofing charm for privacy."

As if to prove it, they came to a door down the end of a hall. A golden starfish was hanging on the door that gleamed innocuously at him until the manta man opened the door. A low moan followed by a feminine cry came at him through the opening, and the manta man closed the door quickly with an embarrassed look.

"Ah, perhaps we should give them a few minutes."

"Yes."

How long would it take? Hordak found himself wondering. Unwanted curiosity filled him, and for the first time, he realized, he could get some of the answers about intimacy and sex that had illuded him here. No, that wasn't his purpose here, and he certainly wasn't going to explore it without Entrapta by his side. 

After a few minutes, the manta man chanced the opening door, and when no cries of ecstasy came out, he led Hordak inside. The room was more extensive than Hordak would have expected, laid out like a suite with an open living room with mahogany wooden furniture. On the side of the room was an open door where a fellow clone was standing, shirtless and shoeless taking a long drag on a rolled cigarette. 

He had a shocking vibrant red hair with golden beads hanging down the side of his face. His eyes were red like his, but where Hordak's eyes were bright red, this clone's eyes were deeper red scarlet. His ears were a touch longer than average with a narrower face with broader cheekbones. 

"Brother!" The clone, Crim, said, throwing open his arms, the cigarette hanging from his mouth. "Welcome! Welcome to the Cloister! My home away from home!"

Hordak was not prepared for when Crim pulled him into an embrace with a pat on the shoulder. And the cigarette was dangerously close to his eye. Then he was released as Crim set his sights on the manta man. "And what have you brought with you, brother."

The manta man batted his eyes in a demure fashion that he lacked while escorting Hordak upstairs. "My name is Marin."

Brushing past Hordak, Crim approached Marin, a hand cupping the blue face and peering into the amber eyes. "Where were you this morning when I arrived?"

A light blush appeared on Marin's cheeks as he said, "You have to be quick to catch me in the morning."

"Hmm, I think I've caught you now," Crim purred, thumb rubbing the soft skin beneath Marin's eye. 

"Sorry, but my morning is booked. . .perhaps tonight?" Marin inquired with a hopeful nibble of his lower lip.

"Make a reservation for us tonight," Crim whispered in a deep voice that rumbled as he pressed his mouth to Marin's.

Hordak wondered if he should head into the next room to give them some privacy. There was an open door, and through it, he could see a large bed with two sleeping bodies. He couldn't make any details, but from their shapes, he could determine one was male and the other female—both without clothes. 

Hordak looked down at the floor, then glanced at Crim, who was still engaged with Marin, this time pressing the shorter man against the door with his mouth. If he engaged in sexual activity just several minutes ago and now attempting to seduce another into his bed, how many sexual partners did he need in an hour!?

"Stop before I have to charge you," Marin said in a breathy sigh as he ducked away from Crim. "Tonight, alright, tonight."

As if to escape before Crim could make another pass, Marin disappeared, closing the door behind him. Then Crim turned back to Hordak.

For a brief moment, Hordak feared that Crim was going to try to kiss him next, but the red-haired clone pulled a chair from the table and sat down, indicating the chair opposite him. "Have a seat. Canvas said that you've wanted to chat."

"Canvas told you about me?" Hordak quirked an eye ridge in surprise.

"He sent me a message while I was at sea," Crim said, tapping a tablet that Hordak hadn't noticed before. It was white and oval with a gray blank screen. Hordak recognized it as one of the communication devices the clones used during war and operations. 

How many of these devices were still in the hands of clones? Hordak sat down, mentally kicking himself for not realizing it before now. Canvas was too cagey about Crim and wouldn't have willingly informed him of his closest brother's arrival if he didn't have the means to warn Crim about him. It was a good thing he had Zed wait for him at the tavern, but was he safe there with Canvas? 

"What's with that look?" Crim asked, tilting his head. "Do you think Canvas would send you into an ambush in a brothel of all places?"

"He failed to mention that he could contact you. In fact, he outright lied about it." 

"Being a pirate means I have enemies," Crim explained, drawing a bottle towards him. He gave it a shake and was disappointed that it was empty and set it aside. "He didn't know your reasons for wanting to find me and took the cautious road. However, I don't think you mean me any harm, or you wouldn't come to Seaworthy to find me with only a gentle brother as a companion."

"No, I'm not here to cause violence," Hordak promised. How strange to hear the words coming from his mouth? He had personally led the assault that almost destroyed Salineas. Not to mention being the orchestrator of an army that almost conquered Etheria. "I am . . . Hordak."

There was a slight tilt of Crim's head before he broke into a laugh. "I suspected as such. There aren't many brothers with your coloring. Well, Hordak, the great Defier of Horde Prime, the Warlord of Etheria, and Master of the Fright Zone, what would you have of me? A loyal pirate of the Etherian seas?"

Maybe this would be easier than he believed. "As you should know, the reason why Salineas is rebuilding is . . .is because of me."

"So I've heard," Crim said, looking wistfully at the empty bottle. "Displaced survivors are littering the coast, and they all tell the same story of a bloke that looks like me leading ball-shaped robots and destroying their towns and homes."

Though there was no bite or judgment in his words, it still stung to hear it put so bluntly. "Yes. So you should be aware that Salineas may be sensitive about your actions."

"My actions?" Crim inquired as he rose to his feet. "One moment. I'm going to order another bottle or two."

Hordak glanced at the empty bottle. "It's not even 10:00."

Crim patted his stomach. "The benefit of having advanced biology. We can hold our liquor better than most races. Never put it to the test?"

"I never felt a desire to do so," Hordak muttered. 

There was a string with a bell connected to the ceiling. Crim gave it two sharp pulls, and not three seconds later, the door opened, and a server came in to take orders. Once the server left, Crim leaned against the door and lit up another cigarette. "So we were discussing my actions? What actions would those be?"

"Pirating," Hordak replied. "Harassing trade ships, stealing, maybe some kidnapping or murdering?"

"I haven't done any murdering. And I did kidnap a merchant's daughter, but we got married a week later, so unless she becomes unhappy with me, I don't believe she'll want to go home."

"You have a wife?" Hordak blinked.

"And a husband," Crim scratched behind one ear. 

"Where?" Hordak astounded that a clone would participate in a social custom so quickly after breaking away from the hive-mind. 

"My wife is asleep in the next room," Crim said, pointing at the partly open door with the sleeping couple. "And my husband is selling cargo. He'll be joining us once he finishes."

"Wait . . .so, who is the man in the next room?"

"A prostitute," Crim said with a shrug. "I forget his name. I think it's Fry or Fren? I'm not sure. I can wake him up if you like to find out."

"Wait, wait, if you're married to two people . . .why are you paying prostitutes for more sex!?" Hordak starred in open shock. 

"Because we love having sex," Crim explained.

And he had thought himself more experienced than any of the clones with his intimacy with Entrapta. Crim with his two wives and frequent visits at the brothels knew more about intimacy and sex than he ever imagined possible. 

This was getting off-topic. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, "You have to stop pirating."

"And why is that, brother?" Crim asked and took a drag on his cigarette. 

"You're going to trigger the people into retaliation against our brothers."

"Am I?" Crim said in mock surprise. "I thought pirates sailed these seas for years. Are you going to ask every pirate to cease their wicked ways? Or is it just me?"

"Think about our brothers who are still adapting!" Hordak growled, clenching his hands. "Think about . . . think about Willow Square."

"Ah, yes. That was an ugly affair," Crim admitted. "Though I failed to see how my actions will spur another Willow Square."

"Salineas . . ." Hordak began.

"I've stayed away from Salineas seas and territory," Crim said, cutting him off. "We only board the ships that are in neutral waters which they sail at their own risk. Honestly, brother, do you really think a Princess who could control the seas would tolerate pirates harassing ships in her territory. Any pirate with sense would know to do that is suicidal to their crew."

"Is not Salineas than . . ."

"Then, who?" For the first time, a trace of anger was lit behind Crim's red eyes. "The Princesses? The Queen of Bright Moon? Or She-Ra herself? I've been captain of the Crimson Bride for months, not one of them so much as peeped at me. The one peeping is my brother, a fellow clone, who caused far more damage to this planet and somehow is living in peace in his castle with one of those Princesses."

Hordak rose to his feet, his own red eyes narrowing. "If you cause another Willow Square . . ."

"If another Willow Square happens, it won't be because of me or my crew." The tip of the cigarette flared to life as Crim exhaled a long stream of smoke through his nose. "We haven't murdered anyone. The worst that's happened is perhaps a broken limb or two, nothing that can't be healed in weeks. Yet, what about you? You who made orphans left and right and took them to become the next generation of soldiers for your army? You who sent orphan soldiers to create more orphans? She-Ra herself was one of those orphans, and what did she have to say about it to you?"

No one knew about the field. Hordak wondered if She-Ra . . .Adora . . .ever told anyone about it. Or was it something that they shared between them on the grass field after Horde Prime's existence was erased? 

"I should go," Hordak said as he pushed back his chair. "Coming to Seaworthy was a mistake . . ."

"Oh, you just discovered that it's impossible to throw mud without getting your own hands dirty?" Crim groused. 

"Red?" A feminine voice called in a flowery accent. "Who are you shouting at?"

Standing at the bedroom door was a petite woman with short pointed ears and honey-colored skin. White hair lay on her shoulders in a tangle from sleep, and sky blue eyes regarded the two of them in sleepy blinks. Thankfully, she was clothed in a white chemise, but what drew Hordak's eyes wasn't her state of dress. It was the slight swelling in her belly.

"I'm not yelling," Crim said, glancing at his wife. "I'm telling off a bloke for telling me my business."

The woman gave him a disapproving look. "You were speaking loud enough to wake us both. Who is this? This is not Canvas."

"I was just leaving," Hordak murmured, heading for the door.

"Nonsense. You are Crim's family," the smaller woman was crossing the room and taking her arm between thin hands with painted nails. "Parting on hard feelings is bad luck, no? You should stay, eat with us, drink with us, and love with us. Our husband Yugo will return, and he will want to meet you too!"

Hordak soon learned that Crim's wife was not a woman to be denied. Even as he tried to go for the door, she kept pulling him back, and only an act of rudeness that might enrage Crim would free him. Therefore, Hordak was held captive with polite etiquette and hospitality by Crim's wife, who insisted on him calling her sister instead of her given name, Deleen.


	6. Love and Other Things

Every time he tried to leave or excuse himself, Deleen would guilt him into staying or ply him with more food and drink of which was endless. How was it possible for people to devour so much food!? Elegant servers brought the food, and Crim and his two spouses would openly flirt with them, even inviting them to stay and eat.

Yugo was dark skin and gainly with gray eyes behind a set of glasses that cling to his head with a set of string around the ears. Like Deleen, he was pleased to meet whom he dubbed as a brother-in-law and insisted Hordak stay for a meal and a drink. And of course, they had to tell him the story of how they all met.

"My father was meeting a partner in Ocean Crest," Deleen began, her face glowing with affection at Crim, who returned it with a smoldering gaze of his own. "He took me along as an assistant, and it is there I met this magnificent creature."

"Upon meeting Deleen, all the poetry and sonnets about love made sense," Crim replies, reaching across the table to take her hand.

Hordak was embarrassed, and he didn't know why. With his ears at a downward slant, he let them continue in the hopes of leaving shortly after they finished and hid behind his cup of wine.

"Father did not believe the Crimson Bastard to be a suitable match for his child," Deleen said and winked at Hordak. "But I am not a child, no, I am a woman who chooses, and I chose my Crim." Their fingers linked on the table, Crim's darker blue-gray digits stood out against Deleen's golden skin.

"And I never bothered to ask him," Crim said. "I stole her away from her tavern room in the night."

"Ah, but I gave you the key to my room," Deleen purred, her eyes far off and glazed with memory.

Between the flirting and the storytelling, it was well after the midday meal, which he had to stay for (Deleen insisted). By zoning out and focusing on his food and surfacing enough to catch a few bits of narrative. After absconding with Deleen to his ship, the two hid away from any pursuing ships, and a week later, they were wedded. The following month, they included Yugo into their marriage.

Yugo was more reserved and quiet compared to his wife and husband. "I was press-ganged into becoming Crim's accountant when he discovered his previous one skimmed too much off the top."

"It was like finding a piece of our hearts we didn't know was missing," Crim said.

"Well, that is an elegant love story," Hordak murmured, noticing the bright afternoon light filtering through the bedroom window. He had sent word to Zed that he would be late returning, and he hoped to return to the tavern before dark fall. And all the food and drink and listening to them was making him tired. "But I must be going. It's a long journey back to Dryl, and we must have an early start in the morning."

"Oh, no!" Deleen said. "You cannot leave!"

"I must," Hordak said, rising with the intent on leaving despite her pleas.

"But it's too dangerous!" Deleen declared.

"Seaworthy has been safe enough," Hordak replied, head for the door, refusing to meet her gaze.

"What if you fall once the drug takes effect?" Deleen pleaded. "You could hurt yourself."

Hordak paused with his hand on the door. "Excuse me?"

Looking back, he saw the three of them watching him with different demeanors. Yugo gave him an apologetic shrug, Deleen was smiling sweetly, and Crim had a familiar smug and knowing smile, the same that Hordak had seen on Horde Prime's face when he had put an upstart leader of a conquered planet in his place.

"Remember what I said?" Crim said, picking up a mug and giving it a shake in Hordak's direction. "It takes a lot to affect our advanced biologies. Yugo slipped in three vials of sleeping draught, and you are just now feeling it."

The fatigue he was feeling filled him, making his vision blur. His hand tightened on the doorknob as his knees almost buckled. Damn. He had let himself be distracted with their story while Yugo plied him with drugs. How far could he get before the drug took over him completely?

"Why don't you sit down before you have a fall?" Yugo said gently as if speaking to a tired old man.

Hordak said something, but he didn't know what he said. It may have been an oath or a threat. His vision swam and the room tilted. He didn't even feel himself hitting the floor.

Before everything went dark, Hordak could hear Deleen whimper, "Oh dear!"

***

He reached for Entrapta. His hand slid across the sheets to touch the heat of her body and the softness of her hair. When he felt only an empty space, he wondered if she had risen early to start work in the lab until he realized this wasn't their bed. And the world was rocking back and forth.

The room was small like a narrow box with a single threadbare bed and a single port window where a moonlight ray cast a dim glow across the bed. Sitting up too quickly made him dizzy, and he flinched, closing his eyes until the world righted itself.

He took stock of his faculties and found he was in one piece. Nor was there any restraints, so let's see if the door is locked. They had removed his boots and cloak but left him still dressed in his tunic. The skirt brushed against his legs, which could barely support his weight. With lurching steps and leaning against the wall, he almost stumbled against the door, which gave way into a short hallway. The exertion of rising from bed and going to the door exhausted him, but he had enough grit to continue.

He was a damn fool! Crim was a pirate! He knew that in meeting with him and yet letting the fact that he was a fellow clone blind him to Crim's kidnapping inclinations. The bastard actually bragged about kidnapping his husband and wife while feeding him drugs so he can do the same!

Halfway down the hall, he had to stop lest he passed out. Dragging deep breaths into his lungs, he listened to his surroundings. There was the constant creak and distant roar of the ocean, while the floors deck above him hammered with the crew's footsteps. How far was he from Seaworthy? Did Zed know what happened to him?

And what the hell was he going to when he reached the deck? Would he have enough strength to strangle Crim? Or fight off his pirate crew? Well, he certainly wasn't going to return to bed like a good hostage.

Heaving himself forward, he braced himself against the wall and made his way towards stairs leading up. It took all his strength, but he managed to reach them before collapsing onto his knees. It took sheer will to remain sitting up without braining himself on the bottom step. The hatch open throwing moonlight across him, and the outline of Crim peered down at him.

"You should have stayed in bed, brother," the Crimson Bastard said as he came down with a slight sway in his step to maintain his balance on a ship. "It'll take time for the drug to leave your system, and I take it you aren't used to being on a ship."

"Do not touch me," Hordak growled as Crim grasped him by the upper arms and hauled him to his feet.

"Now, now," Crim lightly scolded. "Surely, you don't want to be crawling on your belly like a serpent. Let me help you back to bed. In the morning, Deleen will bring you a hot meal."

"Why . . .?" Hordak murmured.

Crim had pulled his arm across his shoulders and supported his weight with ease. "Dear brother, don't you understand? My sweet Deleen, loyal Yugo, and I are pirates, and when a succulent fly such as the paramour of a Princess, comes so willingly into our web, we can only rub our hands together delightfully and feast."

So it had been a trap from the beginning. So did that mean? “Canvas . . .”

"He simply sent a message," Crim replied with an edge in his voice. "He had no part in this, and don't worry, our other brother, Zed as you call him, is safe in Seaworthy."

That did bring him more comfort than he would have realized. And if Zed was safe, then he could send word to Entrapta.

Crim returned him to the small room and lowered him onto the bed. It was relieving to lie back down after the exertion of traversing the hall. Despite being so tired, he was determined to get more answers.

"What's your plans for me?" Hordak demanded.

"No plans. You will remain our guest until Princess Entrapta procures the ransom," Crim said with a shrug. "And if she doesn't, then I suppose you'll be joining my crew."

For the first time, Hordak noticed Crim was fully clothed. The long coat was bright red with golden edges at the cuffs and collar. His white shirt was open, revealing a blue-gray chest and tall boots came up over his knees. He cut a fine figure in pirate clothing, Hordak would never admit to anyone.

"So if all you're going to do is glare at me, I shall return to my spouses," Crim said, turning away. "I'm going to lock the door, so you don't hurt yourself trying to escape or some nonsense."

"Wait," Hordak said, propping himself on his elbows. "I . . . I want to know . . ." It would have been rude before, but now he no longer cared about etiquette. "Deleen's baby . . .is it yours?"

"It's ours," Crim said without turning around. There was a sudden stiffening of his shoulders. "Deleen's, Yugo's, and mine. We will raise the baby together."

"You know what I mean," Hordak muttered. "Is. It. Yours?"

"What does it matter to you?" Crim said, turning around, crimson eyes narrowed dangerously.

So that is what it's like to be glared at with eyes like mine. Hordak drew a breath and pushed onward. "I have my reasons."

"More like a Princess," Crim muttered, then rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Hordak was shaken when Crim suddenly dropped onto the edge of the bed with his elbows propped on his knees and hands hanging loosely between them. For the first time since Hordak met him, Crim seemed downcast and drained of life. Had his question touched a sore subject?

"Horde Prime, the bastard that he was," Crim began in a low voice, "blessed up with good bodies, deep sexy voices, and great legs." With a dry laugh, he slapped his thigh. "Yet he cursed us. We have no childhood; most of what we know is what he deemed to let us know, most of which is false, leading us to believe that we could only be happy if we loved him and were faithful to him. Yet, there's one thing I hate him most for."

"And what's that?" It was odd to hear a clone speak with so much wrath towards Horde Prime. Most clones outside of the Enclave refused to speak of him like Zed and himself, for that matter. What he did share was only with Entrapta, and that was when they were alone at night when he confided his nightmares to her.

"We're sterile," Crim said. "Why let us reproduce when he can always whip up a batch of us like we were cookies or cakes? We're the glorious extensions of himself. Why would he want us to share our blood with the lesser beings?"

 _Well, Coda has nothing to worry about, after all_ , Hordak thought sourly. "Are you sure?"

"Deleen wanted to have my child, and we tried for a long time," Crim said, giving him a wry smile. "But no baby came from our pairing. Both she and Yugo wanted me to keep trying. In the end, it had to be Yugo, or we would have no child of our own."

From the side, in the glow of moonlight, Hordak noticed the small lines at the edges of Crim's eyes. It wasn't noticeable before when Crim was lively and smiling, but now in this downcast mood, it was quite obvious.

"How old are you?" Hordak asked, finding enough strength to sit up.

"I'm not sure," Crim replied, giving him a small smile that did little to ease the age lines. "I was less than a month from being Recycle when Horde Prime met his end."

Horde Prime kept his clones young and pretty. Only he was allowed to show age at the end of a vessel's life, and even then, he chose a new body among his valets. Hordak had been considered for the coveted 'blessing,' but his defect was discovered, and the rest is history.

"My role was to censor poems and songs," Crim said. "I fed his propaganda machine and changed the words in love songs and poems, so they spoke of him. Narcissistic bastard."

A silver flask appeared in Crim's hand, and he took a deep drink before offering it to Hordak. "Don't worry. Not drugged."

Hordak shook his head, then changed his mind. He took the flask and took a tentative sip. The drink burned slightly on the way down. With a slight cough, he handed it back, and Crim screwed the top back on.

"I've read so much about love and passion and was so confused about it," Crim continued. "I understood about love for Horde Prime, but that was devotion and worship and damn 'conditioning.' The love I read about was people losing their minds and lives for it. And the desperate need to entwine your body and soul to another. It wasn't until I met Deleen that I understood what any of it meant."

"I . . .I understand what you mean, brother," Hordak replied.

"Your Princess . . .have you experienced the passion I speak of?"

A sudden flush touched Hordak's cheeks, and it wasn't from the drink. "Only emotionally."

"But you want it also to be physical."

It wasn't a question. Hordak drew a deep breath and wondered why he was discussing this with his kidnapper, but he already had the answer. Crim was the one that could answer his questions and could understand where he was coming from. "Yes. The desire is there from her and me. . .but . . .it’s . . .” Even then, he couldn't bring it to words.

"What are your fears?" Crim asked, turning to face him with none of the mirth he had in the brothel nor the melancholy air from a minute ago.

"Firstly, I fear hurting her."

"Ah. Sometimes pain accompanies the pleasure, especially the first time for some. Yet, sometimes it's a . . .sweet pain. I'm not sure how to explain it, but when it's done right, then the pleasure will far outweigh it."

That did little to answer his question. "And. . .what if I . . .if I can't please her?"

"Brother, everyone with a physical desire can be pleased. You just have to learn each other's bodies and what sets your flesh aflame through communication, exploration, and experimenting."

Hordak blinked. "Experimenting?"

"Yes, the first time you lay with someone, it's an experiment," Crim explained. A slight pink tinged his cheeks as he spoke. "It's why I love meeting new partners in the brothels. I get to learn their bodies, listen to them squeak unexpectedly when I find their sweet spot, and discover what makes them scream in euphoria. And I learn more about my own body . . .did you know there are tender places in the bends of our elbows and the backs of our knees that will send a spark through our limb when licked?"

Crim continued describing his sexual exploits, Hordak was getting an epiphany of his own. Of course! They were looking at sex all wrong. It wasn't just something that came to you, but something you discovered and learned together! And if they get something wrong, they simply try again until they attain the desired results.

Oh, he wanted nothing more than to be with Entrapta and hoped her rescue would come soon.


	7. The Egg

"They'll never understand."

Hordak raised his eyes from the dipping sun towards Crim, standing on the railing, a hand on the rope to for balance. The wind pulled at his hair, and the bead rattled against his cheekbone and ear. It filled his long coat like the sails of the Crimson Bride. 

"Understand what?" He let the apple core he had been nibble from dropped into the water. It was engulfed in the white suds and tossed about by the passing hull. 

"To be disconnected from the hive-mind," Crim was staring out into the orange horizon, watching the sun kiss the sea, and lowered his gaze to Hordak's. "When it's all that you've known."

"Yes," Hordak agreed. "None of them will ever understand." 

If Hordak were to describe it, it would have to be like the apple core. Separated from the bushel and cast into impossible depths of the Universe and world that it can never fully grasp. It had been a terrifying experience for him when it first happened when a portal cast him and his ship to Etheria. He had clung to what he had known, and that had been conquest and the desperation to return to Horde Prime's side. 

Now that he was considering it, he saw that they were somehow still clinging to Horde Prime. He became the conqueror, the Speaker made himself the cult leader, and Crim had embraced hedonism. Others outright rejected their progenitor from Zed's colorful palette of hair to Canvas decorating his flesh. 

All of them were trying to find their way or cling to the old ways. 

"Ah, it is good to see you out of your cabin," a pleasant voice said. 

Deleen was wrapped in a cloak that did little to hide her stomach's gentle swelling, which she kept a maternal hand on. "I am so sorry you've been ill for the past two days, but it seems you have your sea legs now. Come, you should eat with us."

Hordak learned upon his first day at sea aboard the Crimson Bride that wooden Etherian ships functioned quite differently from motorized Horde warships. The constant motion made him queasy, and he had spent the first day in bed and dry heaving into a bucket. By the second day, he was able to sit up without wanting to pass out, and by this morning, he could walk without experiencing vertigo. Now that his stomach wasn't rebelling against him, he felt confident that he could handle a small meal.

Despite his position as a kidnapping victim, he was treated more like a family guest. Deleen personally saw to his care, Crim visited and kept him company, and the crew was respectful. This was oddly comfortable, perhaps something he had heard called a vacation. The only thing that would have made things better, save for not being seasick, was Entrapta. 

Crim hopped down from his perch and kissed his wife, bending down to meet her short stature. His hand laid over hers across her belly. Crim loved the child within as if it were his own . . .and it was his. 

Seeing them kiss made him long for Entrapta and her embrace. Her presence would have made the hell of the last two days more bearable, and he wondered what was taking her so long.

***

It was in the middle of the night when a sudden attack rocked the ship. The force threw him from the bed and across the floor in a tangle of sheets. Kicking himself free, he climbed to his feet, but only to be tossed to the floor when the ship violently lurched. 

There was a noise he recognized though it has been years since he last heard it. The roar of a spaceship's engine going full throttle as it cut through the atmosphere. Above him were shouts as the crew roused and the thumping of feet as the pirates went to their posts. He could faintly hear Crim barking orders, but surely he understood that the Crimson Bride didn't stand a chance against a spaceship's weapons and maneuverability in flight. Especially with Entrapta at the helm.

He crawled towards the door, not trusting to remain on his feet if the ship did another overhead shot. A string of cannon fire went off, booming in his ears loud enough to deafen them. With his ears ringing, he managed to arrive at the door when the world shattered behind him. Splinters of wood rained over him, and saltwater sloshed over him as the boat suddenly keeled. 

A string of thoughts went through his mind. Had Entrapta's invention malfunctioned? Her machines weren't usually this . . .this violent. And what of Deleen and the baby? Was she somewhere safe? What if she had fallen during this? 

No, Crim and Yugo would keep her and the baby safe. Right now, he needed to end this before the situation worsened. 

Then he realized what it was that made the boat keel. The wall behind him was almost gone. A large black grappling hook dug deep grooves into the wood, one shard piercing through the floor. With a mighty wrench, it tore most of the wall and floor with it. The surface heaved beneath him, and grasping the door kept him from sliding out into the sea. 

"Entrapta!" He roared. "Entrapta! Stop! I'm safe!"

The door swung open as the world righted itself. Water sloshed around him, soaking him through his clothing and stinging his eyes. He scrambled to get through the door before the ship keeled again and hurried down the hall. 

Deleen was at the stairway, clinging to the steps, her body curled to protect her stomach. By the time Hordak was at her side, another crash of wood breaking and the ship upheaved. Throwing his body over hers, he took the brunt of the impact as they were tossed against the wall. When they landed on the floor, Hordak checked her over. She seemed fine, no visible lacerations or injuries, but was the baby alright?

"Crim . . .where is Crim and Yugo?" Hordak yelled to be heard.

She pointed at the ceiling. "Crim is up there with Yugo."

"Go back to your room and stay there. I'm going to end this."

"No, I need them . . ." Deleen said. She weakly pushed herself to her feet, her legs trembling beneath her as she struggled to keep her balance. "I need to be with them . . ."

"You go up there, and you'll be thrown overboard," Hordak told her. "Stay down here until I stop this."

He went upstairs before she had the chance to protest. When Entrapta saw him on the deck, she stopped attacking to rescue him. He just needed to get her attention. More canon fire split the air as he made it to the deck. Stars filled the night sky above his head as he came aboard the deck.

Men were running, some following orders and others in a mad panic. One man nearly knocked him over as he charged towards the bow with a coiled rope over his shoulder. He steadied himself on the railing and looked for Crim. Even in the dark, his crimson hair and coat shone brightly in contrast. He couldn't see Yugo. 

Using the rail to guide him, he made his way towards the helm, shouting Crim's name, but even his voice could rise above the roar of the next attack. The mast shattered, raining wood and burning sails upon them. Hordak threw himself upon the deck, covering his head with both arms and then rolling when he felt scorching heat on his back. 

This madness had to stop.

He wrenched himself free of the debris and hurried along with the desk, waving his hands and shouting.

"Entrapta! I'm here! Entrapta, you can stop attacking! I'm safe!"

There was a distant roaring. It was coming around for another attack, and this one would sink the ship. 

"Entrapta!" The edge of the wood bit into his stomach as he leaned over it. "Stop!" 

The roar grew louder. Something was molding from the darkness. Round and large, oddly shaped like a projectile bullet. He didn't recognize the design; it wasn't Entrapta's. . .

Then it halted, just short of several meters from the boat and hovered—water froth beneath it from an anti-gravity generator which began churning as the ship rose. Hordak starred as the front folded back like a screen double doors. 

A figure was sitting within a round of controls, round and short. His stomach lurched as if liquid metal was filling it. “No . . .”

The figure lifted the visor, showing off a perfect trimmed purple mustache above a mocking sneer. "Hordak," Coda said, "I've saved you."

"You tried to kill me," Hordak snarled.

"Kill you? No," Coda pressed a hand to his chest as if offended. "I'm only overwhelming the enemy with superior power. Once they realize it is impossible to win against me, they would have given you up."

"And sink the ship with me in it!" Hordak slammed a fist on the rail. "Where's Entrapta?"

"She'll be along shortly," Coda said, settling back in his seat. "I've sent her our coordinates, so she's on her way in another ship to collect you. I'd offer you a ride, but there's only room for one in the Egg."

The Egg? Now that it was still and he was able to study it more calmly, he saw that instead of a bullet, it was shaped like a bird's egg. A black bird's egg with barely any seams to be seen. It was a machine of impressive design and structure.

"What is this?"

"It's my own design," Coda replied. At Hordak's stare, he curled his lip in a sneer, "What? Do you think Entrapta is the only one in our family with mechanical know-how? She helped iron out the wrinkles, and she's a genius with the navigation relays."

"But, where did you get an anti-gravity engine?" 

"I got the schematics from the exonet and built one for myself," Coda said. "What? Disappointed Etheria is no longer in the dark age without the vast wellspring of information of the Universe?"

"No, surprised that your traditional values didn't prevent you from learning a new trick," Hordak retorted. "You can go now. I'll wait for Entrapta to take me home."

"I was waiting until you were clear before I sank this eyesore once and for all," Coda's wicked grin almost gleamed.

"There's no need. They've been beaten. It'll be a miracle if they can make it to port with what they have left of the Crimson Bride."

"You're defending the people who kidnapped you?" Coda inclined his head at a curious angle. "Oh, wait, I understand. You clones have to stick together. You're an endangered species, after all."

"Get out of here, you bastard," Hordak felt white-hot fury filled him. Did Coda know about the sterility? He might have looked into it after he left Dryl in fear of Entrapta creating a scandal. 

"That's gratitude for you," Coda said, flipping the visor back into place. "But then, I shouldn't expect much from a tyrant." The doors slid back into place, forming a seamless surface, as the Egg did an about-face. 

If Hordak knew of any rude hand signs, he would have performed one when the Egg flew away. 

***

The Crimson Bride would sail again, but only after many days of repair and hard work, but it would take longer for the crew to recover. There were no deaths, but many had been injured from contusions, lacerations, and broken bones. Deleen had made unharmed but rattled, but her husbands didn't fare much better. Yugo had suffered a fractured leg when the mast fell, and Crim had nearly earned himself an eyepatch when the broken piece of wood glanced off his cheekbone. Their wife saw to them first, and once she was sure they weren't in any danger of making her a widow, she saw to the crew, working hard despite her pregnancy. 

Hordak went between assisting her in aiding in emergency repairs to keep the ship afloat. However, since he wasn't working with machines with servos, circuits, or gears, he was only a pair of extra hands that could follow orders from those with the knowledge and experience of triage and woodworking. 

They managed to save the Crimson Bridge from the bottom of the ocean, but without a mast or any means of propulsion, there wasn't any way of getting the ship to port unless it washed ashore. 

"Oi! Ship on the starboard side!" A lookout called from the bow. "Oh, bloody hell! It's the Dragon's Daughter!"

A stricken Crim ordered, "Fill buckets, pitchers, whatever you can find with water and be ready! The last thing we need is for that blazing fool to set this ship aflame!"

Hordak could see the ship, and it was moving faster than was normal for a boat. Did it have an engine with a propeller? No, the water was actually carrying the boat along. There was only one force that could move the other thus, and that was the paramour of Sea Hawk, captain of the Dragon's Daughter. 

Mermista, Princess of Salineas, was on board, and she likely hated him more than Coda ever would.

"Dammit," Hordak sighed as the ship drew closer. 

He knew eventually he would have to share air with the sea Princess but had hoped that date was far off in the future with very little water around. Now it was happening tonight in the middle of the ocean. It'd be a wonder if he didn't end up at the bottom of it.

The ship was barely within a few yards of the Crimson Bride when a familiar voice shrieked. "Hordak!"

A small figure, with long purple tails trailing behind her, sailed across the gap and collided with him. The pleasant and comforting sensation of his body being encased in hair dashed away from the anxiety and exhaustion of the night's events. He basked in her presence, taking pleasure in the solid form of her body against his. 

"Entrapa," he whispered into the waves of hair caressed over his body for broken bones or injury. 

"I was so worried! I wanted to pay the ransom right away, but Uncle Coda said no," Entrapta cried, floating about him like a doting butterfly. "He said that giving in to demands would create more demands."

Hordak's eyes narrowed. "Did he now?"

"But it's okay! You're safe, and we can go home!" Then she noticed the condition of the ship. "Ooooh noooo, the ship is broken. Poor ship. Did the Egg do this?"

"That and more. You never told me that Coda was tech-savvy," Hordak said.

"You never asked," Entrapta said with no sign of pertinent nor annoyance as it was true that he never inquired into Coda's skills. "He gave me my first tool kit when I was three!"

"Don't let him on board!" There was a panicked shout, and the men dashed towards the starboard side of the ship. 

Crim and his men surrounded an anxious Sea Hawk standing on a plank bridging between the Dragon's Daughter and the Crimson Bride with one foot poised above the deck. He looked at the numerous knives and swords, forming a blockade, and a droplet of sweat trickled down his temple. 

"I see my reputation precedes me, wrongdoers!" Sea Hawk declared, salvaging the situation in the only way he knows how.

"Sea Hawk, just stay on the boat," a bored monotone voice said. "The fight's over, so like, no need for any flames or stuff."

***

With Mermista's power, both ships were able to make it to Seaworthy before sunrise. It was agreed that the Crimson Bride was almost destroyed, and the majority of his men out of commission were retribution enough for kidnapping Hordak for ransom. So the agreement stood for as long as Sea Hawk stayed aboard the Dragon's Daughter, and there was no sign of any fire. 

Hordak maintained a healthy distance from the Princess of Salineas, avoiding eye contact and allowing Entrapta to speak for him when she was around. He had personally overseen the invasion of her kingdom and why no clones were allowed within its walls. They were still rebuilding when he burned their villages, and the Horde robots tore through their communities to scatter families and shatter homes. And he had taken pleasure in it.

Shaking off the memories, he drew Entrapta close to his side, drawing comfort from her physical presence. That had been a dark time for him, when he had lost her, believing she had betrayed him. And thinking back on it brought a heavyweight of guilt for thinking her capable of it while she had been lost on Beast Island. 

Her hand touched his, squeezing his wrist, her thumb pressing at the edge of his palm. The sensation was coupled with memories of his discussions with Crim and a spark ignited in his chest. Heat cascaded down his chest torso to settle in his lower body. His hand tightened around hers, almost possessively. Entrapta glanced up at him curiously, a tendril of hair touching his shoulder to reassure him, but it only caused him to catch his breath. 

"Well, brother, this is goodbye," Crim appeared before him, head wrapped in a bandage. He glanced at Entrapta, studying for a moment and then returning his gaze to Hordak's face. "And you have been reunited with your lover."

"Hi! I'm Entrapta!" If there was any residual anger or dismay at meeting Hordak's kidnapping, it simply wasn't there. "Sorry about the Crimson Bride. We have a Builder's Association that can help get her sailing again."

"No need, Princess, once the crew has had a proper rest, they'll start on repairs in the morning."

"How is Deleen?" Hordak found himself not wanting Crim's attention to be on Entratpa too long. "Is she alright?"

"I want her to see a doctor, but she won't leave Yugo's side. We're going to sleep in what's left of the Crimson Bride and have a doctor see her in the morning."

"I hope she and Yugo will recover swiftly . . .and the baby is well," Hordak said.

"Thank you. No hard feelings about the kidnapping?" Crim clapped him on the shoulder.

"No, in fact, I learned a few things myself," he said as he glanced down at Entrapta, affection warming his cheeks as he held her gaze.

Crim took his hand and passed something long and metal into his hand. It was a long key with a small image of a shell embedded in the bow. Crim held his confused look with a knowing smile. "Please, borrow our room at Canvas's tavern."

"I thought you stayed at the Cloister in Seaworthy," Hordak said, quirking an eye ridge.

"When we want to have fun, we stay at the Cloister. When we want to rest or just be with each other only, we stay at the tavern. Canvas will make sure you're comfortable for rest and other activities."

First, Coda, and not Crim, was in his business about intimacy with Entrapta. He pocketed the key and bid Crim farewell. While Entrapta bid her farewells to Mermista and Sea Hawk, he eyed the key in his hand and considered it. Would she be open to it? 

The desire for her had begun to spread across his body, his cheeks pink, and his skin tingle. During his time onboard the Crimson Bride, he had thought of her longing to hold her and what he would say. Yet, he felt restrained from what he wanted, like a hand squeezing his throat. What was holding him back? Fear? Embarrassment? 

Canvas was where he had last seen him, behind the counter, cleaning the counter. When they came through the door, he looked up and nodded, "Glad to see you're back . . .looks like you have a story to tell."

"In the morning," Hordak sighed. "Crim gave me the key to his room here."

"Ah, I'm glad that you two hit it off," Canvas said, tossing a rag on the counter and came around. "Want me to show you where it is?"

"Actually, we're going to need pillows and cushions," Hordak said.

"Lots of them!" Entrapta declared. 

"Better bring everyone that you can spare," Hordak added. "We enjoy comfort."

"I see," Canvas looked between them. "Shall I get you something to drink while I prepared the room?"

"Hmmm, I'll take a strong beer."

"Anything fizzy in a tiny glass!"

Canvas filled a small shot glass with a pink soda, and for Hordak, he gave a large glass with a frothy beer. As she fawned over the tiny glass, passing it between her hair-hands, Hordak took a long pull from a glass. The beer was strong, and he felt it going down smoothly, leaving warm through his bones. Setting the glass down, he gathered his courage.

"Entrapta . . .I . . .if it's alright with you . . . if you want to . . .I want to 'explore' with you tonight."

Entrapta was about to take a sip from the shot glass when she fumbled it. She caught it with only a few drops dotting the counter. A pink flush spread across her cheeks. "I want to explore with you too."

Hordak sucked a quick breath through his teeth. "Actually, I want to do more than explore. I want to experiment."

A ripple went through Entrapta's body, which ended with her hair bristling in a soft whisper. "Experiment?"

"We begin with a control group or sensations with deviations," Hordak said, his thumb rubbing the edge of the glass. "Then we can branch off to different variables."

"We should come up with a hypothesis of how much we enjoy such sensations," Entrapta said, her hair writhing in excitement. It coiled around his waist, the tail end fumbling against his stomach. 

"And introduce anomalies and determine if they are common effects or outliers," Hordak supplemented, turning to her, cupping her cheek and leaning down to gaze into her eyes. "Such as licking the inside of your elbow or the ear."

"Fascinating. We should record these sessions," Entrapta whispered, her hands bracing on his knees as she leaned ever closer, her face tilted towards, her nose barely an inch from his. 

"Perhaps instead of audio records, we should look into video recording too." He lifted her to his chest and stood with her gathered in his arms. "For future study and comparisons."

"Before then," Entrapta whispered, her hair coiling around them. "We create a list of baseline readings." 

Behind them, Canvas, carrying an armload of pillows, paused to stare at them. Couples have come and went through this tavern, and he had been subjected to overhearing lovey-dovey fawning to outright dirty sex talk. Still, he had never heard dirty talk that involved words he didn't know the meaning of that wasn't derived from sexual activities. Regardless, he felt like he was standing at the edge of an open bedroom door in a voyeuristic fashion and hurried upstairs to prep their bedroom as soon as possible.

"We can create a chart for each of us with a range system. Colors or numbers?"

"Numbers. 1 to 10," Entrapta squirmed, almost giggling in anticipation. Then she sagged slightly, "To properly log the information will take time, and we have to go home to Dryl tomorrow."

"We shall stay for a few days," Hordak decided. "Tell the castle that I need time to recover from my ordeal, and we're staying in a tavern in Sea Worthy."

"Yeeesss!" Entrapta squealed in delight at this solution. "We'll need . . .plenty of privacy and no interruptions."

He pressed his forehead to hers, breathing in her scent of oil, metal, and, oddly enough, cupcakes. "I'm glad that I can experiment with you."

"We're lab partners," Entrapta replied, closing her eyes and taking joy in his physical and emotional presence. "I wouldn't want to do this with anyone else."


End file.
